A Reason to Live
by 97Notes
Summary: Deadpool is not usually the type to take a babysitting job, but when it's Nick Fury in need of his expertise, he can't help, but accept. But what he didn't bank on was for his charge to be a young 23-year-old with feisty personality and a sarcastic wit to match.
1. Means of Escape

**Note: **This story is a headcannon, which means that I am taking a character that someone else has created and putting them in my own unique situations. In this case I am taking Deadpool and pairing him up with someone I have created, that I think fits his personality.

* * *

**Saint Petersburg, Russia**

A man wearing a black military like garb, pushed through a set of double doors; holding in his arms the unconscious body of a woman, her face hidden behind the man's jacket that he wrapped her in to protect her from the cold, and to hide the restraints he had tied her up with.

He laid her down on an old tattered bed. He looked her over. "Why wouldn't you let me love you?" His voice coated in a thick Russian accent. He tugged at the hem of her black sweater, gently coaxing it up her stomach, revealing a white tank-top underneath.

"Roman, get over here." One of his comrades called from the other room, interrupting his actions. He groaned pulling her sweater back down, he walked out of the room shutting the door behind him; leaving the girl in sheer darkness.

The sound of the door locking brought the girl into a slight state of consciousness. Her body shivered, desperate for warmth. She brought her knees to her chest, hoping to gain some sense of it; still unaware of her situation. She drew in a breath, only to nearly choke on the stench of Old Spice.

The girl cracked her eyelids to see where the stench had come from, but darkness was all that greeted her. Her eyes opened wider, fear swelling within her. She tried to bring her hands to her face, but the restraints stopped her from doing so.

What's going on?

Now she was really scared; her breathing picked up as she twists and turned, the bed squeaking beneath her. She drew in a deep breath and as calmly as she could, she let it out.

I'll be fine. My father was a member of the military. He taught me how to survive these situations...

She closed her eyes, trying to remember what her father had taught her.

Okay, first, I need to figure out where I am.

Her eyes remained closed as she cautiously rolled over on to her back, the bed squeaking again as she did so.

Okay... For one, it's cold, although that's not surprising since it **is** winter, but the squeaking tells me that I am on a bed of some sort...

Her heart rate picked up.

That's not a good sign...

But it slowed back down, once she shoved the frightening thoughts out of her head.

No! I mustn't think like that! Not now... I need to get out of these restraints.

She wiggled around; working her hands to her front.

Now I **know** I keep a pocket knife with me that is, if they haven't taken it.

She worked her legs up underneath herself, gaining momentum to suspending her waist in the air, so she could search through her jean pockets. She rummaged through her right pocket first, then her left, finding comfort in fact that she still had it in her possession, as her fingers grazed over the warm metal.

Thank God.

She wrapped her fingers around the knife, pulling it out of her pocket. She slid her other hand over; the tips of her fingers grasping the knife blade, pulling it from its sheath. The blade jerked back, cutting the said hand, causing her to wince.

Flipping the knife where the blade was toward her wrist. She carefully moved her hand back trying to avoid cutting herself any further.

The knife made contact with the band-like restraint, making a tiny tear in it. She used what strength she had in her hand to move it back and forth under the restraint, making the tiny tear even bigger.

This is going to take a little while, yay me...

* * *

"Come on; almost there... Just a bit, more-" She murmured, already tired.

The restraint snaps recoiling to her sides; letting her body breathe. She inwardly jumped for joy, but it was short-lived because she still had to find a way out of there. She quickly sat up, ripping off the man's jacket.

Alright, now what do I need to do? I think I need to try searching for an exit. 

She slid towards the edge of the bed. Her hands going to her sides propping herself up; she was going to push herself off the bed, but stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the voice of the man who had brought her here.

Quickly falling back down on the bed, she wrapped herself in the jacket, to hide the fact that she had freed herself. She turned over facing what she thought was the door, so she could make a quick escape.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of the door unlocking; her eyes slamming shut. Pulling her pocketknife close to her body, she readied herself for what she had planned earlier, to fight her way out.

The door creaked open; the man stuck his head inside to make sure she had not awakened. Once he was sure she was still out, he entered, leaving the door partly open.

He didn't close the door. That's good. 

"Now, let's have some fun." The man's Russian voice cut through the air, sending a chill up her spine. She could not understand what he had said, but the way the words rolled off his tongue told her it was not good.

He stood before her, his body in her range; casting a shadow on the wall behind her.

Three... 

His gloved hand ran down her side.

Two... 

He began to tug at the hem of her sweater.

One! 

Her eyes flashed open; her body lunging up at the man. Before he could say or do anything, the blade slammed into his chest, causing the man to double-over on top of her. He gurgled, blood spilling from his mouth on to her sweater. She shoved him off and on to the floor, his body making an ungodly sound as it hit the floor; the light from the other room illuminating his features.

She slid to the ground, her face etched in disbelief. "Roman?" before she could get a closer look, other Russian voices sounded from above, grabbing her attention. "I need to get out of here!"

She jolted to her feet and took off running down the hallway. She looked ahead, a set of stairs in her view. Coming to a gradual stop, she pressed herself against the wall beside the stairs. She focused her hearing, all the voices jumbled, but at least she could tell where they were coming from.

Her heart pounded in her chest; what she is about to do is truly a leap of faith. As soon as the voices were far enough where she could no longer hear them, she bolted up the stairs, stopping right before hitting the top.

She held on to the railing, as if it was something that could keep her safe. She checked the brightly lit corridors.

Nothing; I don't know if that's a good thing. 

She was about to run down the left corridor, but came to a halt once she realized that she had no idea how to get out of here! She sighed.

I guess I am going to have to use my powers. 

She let out a sigh and fell to her knees. She placed her palm spread out on the concrete floor. Her pupils lit up to a fiery blue, her breath low and silent. Once she had finished her exploration, she pushed off the ground towards the right.

I knew I was right about needing to worry, but there is no time to think about that. Whoever it is that's killing my captors, I don't wish for him to find me. 

Her feet hit the ground with force, giving her more momentum, as a large framed window, riddled with bullet holes came into her sight.

"God be with me..." were the last words to leave her lips as she flung her body out the window, hands instinctively going to her face.

She prepared for an impact that never came, as a black and red blur ran towards her, jumping up and snatching her out of the air. The man's feet hit the ground with aloud thud, but showed no signs of it hurting.

Her eyes snapped open at the unforeseen event, immediately darting up to see the face of her savior. She leaned into the man's arm, taken aback by the fact that her savior wore a mask, but took in every detail of him. He wore a tight, red mask, with black diamonds outlining his white eyes.

He looked down at her, his expression unreadable because of the mask. "I'm guessing you're Jacey O'Pray?"


	2. Meeting the Merc

**Note:** I love you guys! I honestly can't believe that I have 7 Favs 11 Follows and 9 positive comments! You guys rock! Disclaimer should be in chapter one. You can go to my profile to see what the leading lady looks like. Please give honest reviews, and above all, thank you for taking time out of your life to read this story, I am truly grateful and I hope I do Deadpool justice. Now on with the story...

* * *

"Yeah, and who are you?" The girl confirmed, doing everything in her power to show no fear, but it was evident that she feared him in some sense, but her stubbornness refused to show such emotion, especially in front of the said man.

A smirk took hold of his features, it showing clear through the fabric of his mask. "I wasn't expecting you to fall into my arms, but it'll do." He completely ignored her question.

It was small, but he could tell that she was nervous; she did not trust him. But it was not like he couldn't see why; he is a six-foot-two monster, wearing a red and black body suit, with weapons strapped to every part of his body.

Her breath grew shallow as her heart picked up speed; ready to do whatever necessary to escape. "I will ask you again, who are you?" Her eyes narrow, tone threatening.

He quickly retracted his hands, dropping her on her back. "Hey! I wasn't sent here to kill ya! If I were, I could have just let ya fall."

Jacey groaned, propping herself on her elbows, her eyes everywhere, but on him. "Yeah, you could have, but some like the thrill of the kill."

He tilted his head to the side, agreeing with her. "You can rest assured, princess that I'm not here to hurt ya, but I do need you to come with me."

Her head snapped in his direction. "Where?"

The man extended his hand to her. "To the middle of the Pacific Ocean."

She arched a brow, but took his hand anyway; he pulled her to her feet. She began dusting off the melting snow.

It was not until she stood in front of him did he notice how attractive this girl truly was. The way her jeans and sweater clung to her body, defined her quite nicely.

But all sense of attractiveness faded, when her body twisted around, sending a swift kick to his temple. He tumbled over, watching three clones of the girl run off into the blinding snow.

He shook his head furiously, everything coming back into focus. "Damn, the girl got power." he jumped to his feet and began the chase.

Unable to see where she needed to go, Jacey opted to use the power she had earlier. Her eyes shifted to blue, allowing her to see clear through the snow.

She made sharp turn down, what she thought could only be an ally, but stopped once she got to a fork in the road. With little time to think she chose the left, which was a terrible decision on her part.

Seriously! Of the two paths I could have chosen I chose the one with a dead-end!

He was quick on her trail, but just far enough away to where he could not see her. Her eyes darted around, seeing only one way out.

The fire escape!

She climbed up onto dumpster underneath it, using it to give her a boost. She jumped up, grabbing hold of the fire escape railing, hoisting herself up and over it.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I am not here to hurt ya!" the man spoke, his voice bouncing off the ally walls, giving the impression that he was everywhere, but nowhere.

Ha! Like I'll believe that!

She broke in the window beside her and jumped through it. She knew he had heard her. But what she did not expect was for him to burst through the door of the apartment she had broken into. Before she could react, he tackled her to the ground.

He sat on her waist, pinning her down with his weight; his arms folded over his chest in triumph. "Gotcha!"

Panicked at the thought of being trapped, she thrashed around, looking for anyway to escape; tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.

The only way he was going to get her to listen was if he could get her to focus on him, which meant he would have to get her out of panic mode.

Seeing only one option, he wrapped his gloved hand around her wrists, pinning them above her head. Her eyes locked with his; her fear disappearing behind a mask of defiance.

Caught off guard by her reaction, he leaned forward; his face only inches away from her; God, how this girl intrigued him.

"Now, you have two choices. You can either play nice, or you can play mean, but do note, if you play mean, I **will **have to use forceful measures."

She could tell he was not lying. This is one she certainly did not want to quarrel with, much.

"And if I play nice?"

"I'll refrain from using bondage."

She stared him down, not wanting to give an inch, but found herself trusting him. Her eyes fell, as a sigh escaped her. "Fine; you win, I'll play nice."

He smiled. "I knew you'd see it my way."

He moved into a crouching position, and hopped on to his feet; her body still between his legs. Just in case she did not keep her end, but offered her his hand nonetheless.

She slid herself out from underneath him, glancing at his hand and then at him. "After what happened the first time, you still offer to help me up?"

"Yeah, because I know you won't do it again." and he is right; he kept his word, so she would keep hers, for now.

She took his hand, but stayed there for a bit before he pulled her to her feet.

"Thanks." she muttered taking a step away from him. "So, now will you tell me who you are?"

He eyed her for a bit, deciding it wouldn't hurt to tell her his name. "Well, princess, you can call me Deadpool, or the-"

"Merc with a Mouth." she finished, folding her arms over her chest. "So you're a mercenary."

"My creditability went down, didn't it?"

"A little; but I can't deny you saved me, when you could have let me die. So, you have earned yourself the benefit of a doubt."

He was about to say something, but got gut off by her once again.

"If, you tell me who sent you."

He thought about it for a while, but mostly what ran through his head was how he liked the girl's spunk. "Fair enough; Nick Fury is the one that hired me."

The corners of her lips fell; her head falling into her palm. "Great." she groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"You know eye-patch?"

She nodded.

"Good, because he knows you, and he's rather worried."

She scoffed. "He's **always** worried."

Now it was his turn to arch a brow. "What do you mean?"

She raised her head, her eyes conveying nothing as her lips went back to the straightness they were once before. "You'll find out, once you take me to him."

"Now I can't wait to get back!"

He grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her out the door. As they ran down the stairs, her ears picked up the sound of an extremely loud engine.

Is that the sound of a-

He pulled her through the exit, confirming her suspicions, as a large black jet came into view. He released her hand and hopped up onto one of the wings of the plane. He turned to the pilot and began to bang on the tinted bulletproof glass that protected him. "Hey short-stop, hop out and let me drive!"

"No can do Mr. Deadpool, Fury's orders." The pilot replied opening the back hatch. Deadpool grunted, but obeyed, which was a first for him.

He crouched, reaching down for her, and pulling her up with little effort. He hopped into the back, gesturing for her to sit on his lap, a smirk playing at his lips.

Seeing no other alternative she hopped in with him. He draped his arm around her back, allowing his hand to rest on her thigh.

This is gonna be a **long** ride...


	3. Arriving at SHIELD

**Note: **Hey guys, been a while, no? Thank you for your continuing support, I hope to keep all of you around for the rest of the story. And I would like to point out that wrote this chapter when I was very tired, and I just edited it today, but I have to say, I'm not very happy with this chapter so I plan to editing it later. Would you guys be so kind as to tell me the parts where I messed up, or that didn't make much sense?

* * *

Jacey eyed his daring hand, but decided to ignore it; unable to find the strength to protest. Instead, she chose to let her eye's wonder to the seemingly painted moon above them, her mind replaying the events that happened just moments ago.

Where was she? How did she get there? And, how long had she been gone? Were the questions she asked herself, but they were impossible for her to answer.

If she wished to have any of these questions answered she would have to allow herself to trust this mercenary, and meet the man she had tried to stay away from for so long.

She leaned her head against the glass top of the jet, her mind traveling to darker places as she remembered the man she had stabbed.

The feeling of his life leaving him in the color of blood was something she would never forget; but it was not the first time she had taken another's life. But still, she hated the feeling of playing God.

There's no way... He couldn't have been Roman; it had to be someone else...

Her eyes fluttered shut, but snapped back open.

I shouldn't fall asleep, especially **here**.

She inwardly gestured to her sitting arrangement atop Deadpool's lap, but it wasn't long before her eyes fell shut again, this time remaining shut.

Deadpool watched her from the corner of his eye, and the second her eyes closed, he squeezed her thigh rather hard, as revenge for her punching him.

Her body jumped in the surprise, which caused her to hit her head on the glass. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

Deadpool giggled, but quickly refrained himself so he could answer. "That was for kicking me in the face."

"Wait, so I kicked you in the head, but didn't give you a concussion?"

"Of course not; it takes a lot of power to do such damage, and you darlin' just don't have it."

Jacey halfheartedly laughed. "Ha- let me see if I can fix that."

"Wha-" was the only thing he got out before her fist came right for him, but he somehow managed to dodge it. He grabbed the offending hand and wrapped it around her back, making it to where she could not move her arms.

Jacey growled, trying to move her hands, but to no avail.

"I told ya I'd tie you up if you tried anything."

She gave him a look that said 'If looks could kill, he would be pushing daisies about now.' but all it would be doing is giving him what he wants.

* * *

The moment they arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters he released her, allowing her to leave at her own accord since where could she go? They were in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, suspended in mid-air, she wouldn't get far.

She rubbed her wrists for a second before starting down a random corridor; her pace was slow, but on edge, a fake smile showing itself every time a member of S.H.I.E.L.D would greet her.

She hated this place with a passion. If they were going to give her fake sympathy she was going to give them fake smiles. It was their fault everything she knew had crumbled! Yet, the man went to such lengths as to hire a mercenary to save her? She needed answers and he was the one to give them to her.

Deadpool came up beside her, his hands folded behind his back. "Hey princesa, you alright? Or are you still mad?"

"I'm peachy." she retorted, coming to halt in front of Fury's office; her eyes glued to the S.H.I.E.L.D symbol.

Murderers...

The door slid open, revealing two people. The first one was an African-American man with an eye-patch covering his left eye; the other was his assistant, Maria Hill.

"It's about time you two arrived." Fury spoke, sorting through some papers.

Jacey shrugged. "Well you know me, always so punctual."

Deadpool took a step back, shocked, but a little impressed that she had spoken to Fury in such a manner. He could understand himself being like that since he **is** the Merc with a Mouth, but this little girl? There is certainly something about this girl he was fond of.

"If you weren't so stubborn, this wouldn't have happened." Fury countered, turning to face them.

She folded her arms over her chest, staring at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Fury sighed. "Deadpool, Maria, would you two please leave me to speak with my goddaughter, alone."

"Goddaughter?" Deadpool questioned, as Maria pushed him out of the office, closing the door behind them once they were out.

Fury plopped down on his office chair, his palm covering his face. "What have you gotten yourself into this time, Jacey?"

"Believe it or not, nothing I'm aware of." she answered, taking a seat on the chair across from him. "I was wondering if **you **could fill in the blanks."

Fury removed his hand and placed it on the glass surface of his desk; he looked her over sympathetically. "What do you remember?"

Still refusing to look him in the eyes, she draped her hands over her knees; her fingers fiddling with each other as she answered. "Nothing really, except waking up in a dark room, and stabbing a man who looked like someone I knew."

"Who?"

"He was a friend of mine. His name was Roman."

Fury's one remaining eye dilated at her response, but quickly went back to normal.

"Why? Did you know him?"

Fury shook his head. "No."

She did not believe him, but she did not feel like pressing the matter. So she decided to change the subject. "Can you tell me where I was kept?"

"You were in Saint Petersburg, Russia."

Her head snapped up to look at him. Her brows arched. "What! How long have I been gone?"

"About a week."

"A week!" She exclaimed, her jaw fastened to the floor in disbelief.

She threw her body back against the soft cover of the chair, her hands draping over the armrests. Reeling at the fact that she had been gone for a week and was on the other side of the world!

Fury arched a brow. "Were you unconscious the entire time?"

"Yeah, as far as I know."

Fury cupped his chin in his palm, thinking a bit before he spoke. "Jace, I want you to take it easy today, rest up, take a shower, and get something to eat."

"But-"

"No buts. Rest today and we'll discuss more about this tomorrow."

She pouted, but did as he said, getting up to leave the room.

"Oh, and Jace."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, already outside of the office.

"I'm glad you're alright."

She didn't respond, only pressed the button for the door to close behind her.

Liar...


	4. The Shower Incident

Somehow managing to avoid Deadpool, Jacey made her way to the showers. Figuring she would get that out of the way first, and then tackle the other two.

Finding the locker room, she walked inside; the sound of her gray boots squeaking against the wet tiles. She looked around, surprised to find herself being the only one in there, but that did not bother her, she actually preferred it.

She scanned the showers from afar, looking for one that would conceal her most if someone happened to enter. Her eyes locked on to the one at the very end on the left hand-side.

Perfect!

Her eyes drifted to the lockers on the right, picking the one that had the number she thought of. She pulled open the number six locker, revealing a small basket for her clothes, an area for her shoes, and a plain white towel folded within basket. She pulled the towel out, draping it over the locker door.

Her hands went to the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head, but stopped before she could get her hands out. She stared at the fabric, her body remembering the cold touch of the man who had intended to rape her, she shivered at the very thought.

Shoving it out of her mind, she removed her arms from the sweater sleeves; she folded it and placed it in the basket, soon followed by her white tank top, acid wash jeans, and gray lace-up boots.

Now, left only in her lace-black bra and plain black underwear, she eyed the door, making sure that he who would not be named was there.

Seeing that the coast was clear, she stripped herself of the intimates and tossed them in the basked as well. Grabbing the towel and wrapping it around herself, she scampered off to the shower, excited to get the muck that had built up over a week off of her.

She pulled the curtain to, before she hung the towel on the rack. Her hand found its way to the hot water nozzle. She turned it on full blast, the heat from the water instantly reddening her skin, but she did not care; she loved the feeling of the hot water burning away her impurities, it was the only time she ever felt truly clean.

**Meanwhile, with our deadly neighborhood mercenary...**

"Oh, come on Maria! Please?" Deadpool begged, following after the woman, from one end of the ship to the other.

Maria wrote down numbers and names as she replied. "No, Deadpool. I'm not allowed to share such details about Fury and O'Pray's past."

"But-"

She stopped dead in her tracks. "No! If you want to know about their past, ask one of them!"

He thought for a bit, knowing that her plan sounded **far **better than his own, which consisted of bugging her until she told him. But how would he get either of them to tell him? He knew Jacey wouldn't, because she did not trust him as is and Fury... He would have ten bullet holes in him before he could even ask.

"Hey, Mar-" he started, but his conversation partner had disappeared. I guess he is on his own.

He turned on his heels heading back to Fury's office, but the smell of pure white cotton flowing in a fresh ocean breeze brought him to halt.

He sniffed the air. "Hm, Sea Island Cotton. A clean scent, so that must mean... There's someone in the lady's shower!" like a kid at Christmas, he took off towards the showers, hoping that whoever it was, they had big breast!

* * *

Jacey stood in the shower, messaging shampoo through her dark locks; her mind wondering to the perverted Merc.

Ya know, I hope he doesn't figure out that I'm in the shower.

As quick as the thought came, it left her, rolling off her like a bead of water. She messaged through her dark locks; not once noticing the figure that crept behind the curtain.

Deadpool had a mischievous look in his eyes as he crept over to the lockers, but of course he could not help, but spare a glance at the body in the farthest shower cuticle. The corners of his lips upturned.

I'm going to enjoy this. He thought turning back to the lockers, looking them over, debating which one the girl might have chosen. Unable to choose, he began quietly opening each one.

First one: A dud, second one: A dud as well. Third, fourth, and fifth: all duds. But six was the jack pot!

Inwardly giggling, he put the boots in the basket and took the whole thing. He felt through his utility belt, looking for the note he had made prier to entering the room. He pulled out the 'ransom' note, placing it where the basket had been, and casually walked out like nothing had happened.

Jacey stepped out of the shower, the towel wrapped around her; she stiffened a yawn as she made her way to her locker. She hummed to the tune of Sober, by Pink.

"I'm safe, up high. No one can touch-"

Her lips fell into a frown, blinking a few times to make sure what she saw was real. "Where are my clothes?" she closed the locker door, making sure it was the right locker, and unfortunately for her, it was.

She pulled the locker door open again, this time seeing the note Deadpool left her; reading through the note, she became infuriated by what it contained. "What the-"

_Dear Princess,_

_While walking through the ship today I stumbled upon this basket filled with someone's clothes, and being the Good Samaritan that I am, I thought I would find out who's these belong to. If you are the owner of this basket, come find me on the sky deck._

_Your friend, Deadpool. XOXO_

She crumbed the note in her palm. "I'm gonna kill him!" she tightened the towel around herself, and stomped off out of the shower.

* * *

Her feet squished against the cold hard floor of the ship, as she made her way to the sky deck, ignoring the people's passing glances.

She muttered a variety of curses under her breath, but it soon came to a halt by the chill of the night air gracing her skin. "Dear God, it's cold." she whispered, tightening her grip on the towel.

"So, you got my note?" Deadpool's giddy voice spoke from behind her.

She turned to face him, her eye going immediately to the basket in his hand. "I didn't need a note to know it was you who took my clothes."

She came closer to him, goose bumps visible on the exposed parts of her flesh. "Now, give them back!" she tried to snatch them out of his grip, but he quickly moved them out of her reach.

"Nah-uh."

"Give them to me!" she demanded, standing on her tiptoes to reach them, but because she had walked out there barefoot and wet, her feet could not hold her weight, causing her to topple over backwards.

Thinking quickly, Deadpool dropped the basket and moved his hand behind her neck, to cushion her fall, but it caused him to fall along with her.

Her back hit the ground with a quiet thud, as Deadpool fell on top of her. His other hand holding him up, so he wasn't entirely on her.

Jacey's hands were on either side of her, leaving the towel unkempt and free to do as it pleased. It covered her chest and personal region, but it parted up her side where she had wrapped it, exposing her hip.

She exhaled calmly, trying not to show her embarrassment as their eyes connected. Either of them unable to say anything, at first...

Deadpool removed his hand from behind her, bringing it to his side, so he could caress the exposed hip. "I think I like this position."

A blush crept on to her features, at his actions, but she refused to move and let him win. She would wait for her opening, and use it to escape! She replaced her blush with smirk, as she arched her right leg, the one he caressed.

He watched as her expression changed. What is this girl planning?

She brought her hand to the top hem of the towel, holding it in place, before she wrapped her arched leg over his and rolled them over, so that she was on top.

Her free hand patted his chest, as she leaned in; her warm breath could be felt from underneath the mask as whispered. "I don't."

She pushed off of him, grabbing her stuff and going off on her merry way. Leaving him to do whatever he pleased.

He propped himself on his palm, watching her as she left. He smirked. "This is going to be so much fun!"

* * *

"Taking my clothes, and making me walk around only in a towel! He'll pay for this!" Jacey huffed, making her way back into the showers.

She dropped the basket in the locker it had occupied earlier, and pulled her boots out and placed them on the side. She reached in and pulled out what she thought to be her white tank-top, but it turned out being a white bed sheet. "Wha-"

She was about to blow gasket, until Maria touched her shoulder, calling for her attention. "Miss Jacey, is everything alright?"

"Great, until Deadpool stole my clothes." she replied, showing her the sheet Deadpool had left in place of her clothes.

Maria Groaned. "He never quits. Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm here."

Jacey looked at her, puzzled. "I'm sorry, but how is it a good thing you're here?"

"Because, I found a set of clean clothes for you." she explained, showing her the clothes she held in her other hand.

Jacey face lit up. "Thank you so much!"

Maria returned the smile, handing her the set of clothes. "No problem." she turned on her heels, but before she could leave, she remembered something. "Uh, Jacey, the reason that Deadpool took your clothes, is probably because he wants to know about your and Fury's past."

So that's why he did it.

Jacey thanked her before she left her to her own thoughts.

If he thinks he can use such methods to get information out of me, he is so wrong...

Curious as to what Maria gave her she unfolded the clothes, one at a time. First, was a charcoal colored dress with 3/4 sleeves. Second, was a pair of pitch black leggings and last was a set of similar lace-bra and underwear. She thought for a bit, thinking she had seen this before, and then it hit her. "This is mine! How did it get here?" she shrugged. "Whatever; it doesn't matter now."

She put on the garb and walked out like nothing was wrong. Seeing Deadpool out of the corner of her eye, she looked over at him. She smiled and waved, showing him he had lost.

He was puzzled by how she had got the clothes, but he soon understood, when he saw Maria waiting for her outside of the shower. He folded his arms over his chest; I'll have to use different methods with this one.

Exiting the shower, Jacey caught Deadpool out of the corner of her eye; she turned on her heels and gave him a look that clearly said 'I win' as she waved.

_See you tomorrow,_ she mouthed to him, before turning back to Maria and following her to the sleeping quarters. Deciding to skip dinner and head straight to bed because she knew she was going to need all the sleep she could get.


End file.
